


Leap of Faith

by embarrassingresultofmyfreetime



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, I havent posted fic in a while so here u r, also he finds the holy water open in crowleys flat and thinks he might be dead, basically an AU where Aziraphale goes to Heaven instead of trying to call God from his bookshop, crowley and aziraphale are very cute, he is his usual dramatic self too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 13:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19377664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embarrassingresultofmyfreetime/pseuds/embarrassingresultofmyfreetime
Summary: AU where Aziraphale willingly goes up to heaven in search of God but the angels tell him he has to prepare for war so he decides to swan dive out the window instead- essencially 'falling' back to Earth for CrowleyAlso he goes to Crowley's flat and thinks he's dead





	Leap of Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for spelling/grammatical errors but I'm v tired and still want to post this so here  
> I hope you like it
> 
> (Edit: I'm doing a little editing since this fic could definitely benefit from some lol  
> If you've previously read it, there are no major changes to the plot!  
> Just fixing spelling and rewording to make it a little smoother. I originally wrote pretty much all this in a burst and then slapped it up here at 2am one day because I really didn't think anyone would care but it's actually gotten some views and I could not be happier!!  
> So I figured you all deserve my best work. Or at least the best I can currently do.  
> Thank you so so much for reading!! I hope you enjoy)

"Pardon me," Aziraphale greeted the first angel he came across upon his return to Heaven. This certain angel happened to be taking count of Heaven's soldiers and distributing weapons as instructed.

"I'm seeking a- uh- a higher authority," Aziraphale stuttered with determination. He gave the soldier before him a nod and clasped his hands together in an attempt to look less nervous than he was.

"And you are?" The loyal soldier questioned without a sliver of interest. The uniformed and well-decorated leader barely spared him a once over before flipping up the top page of his list and burying his nose in it.

"Principality, Aziraphale," he politely introduced himself. "Do you know whom I might speak with? It really is rather urgent."

"Yes, you're squadron is already waiting for you."

The soldier picked up a neatly-folded pile and extended the regulation uniform to Aziraphale. However, the principality dropped his arms to his sides in rejection to the dismay of the hardworking angel.

"No-no. I'm afraid you've misunderstood. I need to speak to- well, preferably I'd like to speak to God."

"God?" The angel scoffed in amusement and finally bothered to take note of the newly arrived company.

"Haven't you heard?" The officer finally addressed Aziraphale directly, "We are at war! There's no time to bother God with trivial matters when far more important events are at hand!"

"That's just it!" Aziraphale found his voice and ceased the wringing of his fingers.

"There may not need to be a war at all! I'm sure if I might be given the chance to explain-"

"Aziraphale!" A new voice echoed through the large, nearly empty room. It originated from somewhere behind him but the way it bounced against the blank walls on either side of him and reflected back from the opposing window-lined wall gave Aziraphale the terrifying sensation that he was being attacked from all sides. His blood instinctively froze and then suddenly it began to course through him as his heart raced.

He discreatly rubbed his clammy hands against his coat.

"So glad you could make it! May we take this as a sign that you've chosen our side after all?"

The voice belonged to none other than Gabriel who had an intimidating air that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Michael walked alongside him, his gaze just as harsh.

"Are you ready to fight?" Michael asked with a deceivingly gentle smile.

Aziraphale took a deep breath. He was there to speak with God. He wanted to explain the facts, to clarify the events and fix any misunderstandings that had arisen from them.

Because of, as well as despite, everything he'd ever witnessed in the last 6000-odd years as a result of the Almighty's hand, he still had faith that the Almighty truly was good at heart. With every part of his being, he believed that, deep down, if given the chance, God would understand what he had to say.

But where was She in the world's hour of need? In his hour of need? Where was the figure he had unequivocally trusted and justified?

He had blindly held fast all these long years; he had lived through floods and wars and famine and plague and had never dared to question a moment of it. Yet at the eleventh hour- when he was doing everything in his power to save was the Almighty had created- it seemed as though he was alone.

"We don't need to fight." He said, rather quietly as he realized he was subconciously stepping back from his superiors.

"Come now." Gabriel tried to charm him with his mellifluous voice and meticulously-crafted expressions. "It's all part of God's plan! Surely you're not second-guessing the plans of the Almighty."

"I'd never dream of it!" Aziraphale gasped, taking another slow step back. "But- Don't you wonder if we... well- if we're understanding it... correctly?"

"What?"

"Why- why make the Earth in all of its incredible beauty if it's nothing more than a battleground? Is another war truly what we need? It- it's just- Maybe we're wrong!"

The angels stopped in their tracks. They didn't seem to understand what he was saying.

"We're carrying out the will of God!" Michael explained carefully, as if Aziraphale was the one who was misunderstanding.

Aziraphale shook his head furiously. He was anxious- and Heaven's cold, bleak design didn't help matters- but he refused to stay blind to what his superiors wanted.

He was true to the Almighty... but his angelic superiors? Well, they could be wrong. Aziraphale had been wrong lots of times and was confident that other angels could be wrong too.

"I- I'm sorry." Aziraphale averted his eyes. He could see the reflection of the tall, bright window behind him shine against the pristine white floors. He could see where the tiniest bit of dirt rubbed off the bottoms of his shoes and dared to tarnish the beautiful yet bleak floor beneath him.

To Aziraphale, it served as evidence of the disconnect between his relationship with Earth and the way the other angels understood Earth.

He had walked on its surface for thousands of years and become intertwined with humanity's rich cultures. Human life had changed him while the other angels had remained ever still through time. And that change wasn't bad. There were very few things on Earth that were purely good or bad.

Aziraphale also realized _he_ had been wrong... and perhaps Crowley had been right.

Aziraphale needed to find his friend.

Maybe the Almighty had made sure he wasn't alone after all....

"We know you're loyal, Aziraphale. You've done some very good work in the name of Heaven. You won't turn your back on us now." Gabriel coaxed Aziraphale with his usual pleasant smile that had a way of counteracting his threatening words.

Aziraphale's back was nearing the windows now. He had run out of steps back to take. The thick panes of glass towered over him, as if taunting him with unreachable freedom.  Going to Heaven was a mistake too, he suddenly realized. He had to get out.

"There's no where left to go, Aziraphale." Michael noted with a cold smile.

Aziraphale knew the other angels could read him as easily as he could read any book in his shop. He briefly wondered what they would do to him if he continued to resist.

Crowley would know what to do, Aziraphale considered with a heavy heart.

And suddenly it was all so clear.

"You know," Aziraphale addressed the angels in a calm, collected manner.

"I've spent a lot of time with humanity in the last 6000 years. I've read a lot of their stories too."

He let go of his nerves and let newfound confidence take hold. He'd also spent a lot of time with Crowley in the last 6000 years and no one could do that without picking up a thing or two about acting confident in the face of adversity. In fact, Crowley had inspired quite a lot of stories about great heroes doing just that. It was a shame Crowley had never bothered to read them.

"Do you know what I've learned?"

The angels stared him down, daring him to go against them. Daring him to make the same mistake every fallen angel in Hell had been forced to learn from the hard way.

But Aziraphale didn't care. He didn't have to.

He dared to take another step backward, his shoe finding the edge of the windowsill where the glass pane it used to bear had inexplicably disappeared. For the first time since he had arrived in Heaven he felt something other than the stale, motionless air of large empty rooms. He felt the breeze ruffle his hair and the sunlight reach the back of his neck.

"You always have a choice."

With that, Aziraphale fell backwards from the building.

He didn't bother to look back as his superiors stared over the edge in amazement. Amoung other things, Heaven's occupants had never, ever considered the possibility of opening a window. Much less had they ever ponder the consequences of leaping out one if you did.

-

Aziraphale fell into a freefall. He had wings, of course, but didn't bother to open them at first.

Instead he wondered, however briefly, if this was what Crowley had felt when he had left Heaven. He had never dared to ask but maybe- assuming they survived all this end of the world business- he might, someday.

He knew he was plunging into the known but there was something almost calming about it. He was alone... but unlike he had even been alone before. He was detached from something that had been dictating his every movement for nearly his entire life, swaying his every decision. And now he was only him, living alone, in a single moment. It was dangerous yet exhilarating. He was relieved yet terrified. It felt incredible.

But Aziraphale knew what he had to do. He had to find Crowley and they had work to do.

Maybe they could still find a way to stop the Apocolypse. Maybe there was still time.

He soon stumbled up to Crowley's flat as if it was only the blink of an eye away. In reality, he was a little out of practice with his angelic flying and nearly miracled himself across the ocean on accident. Luckily, he'd figured it out.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale called gently from outside the door. He felt his heart sink as the light wrap of his knuckles pushed it open.

The layout of Crowley's apartment was extremely minimalistic, but not as blatantly empty as Heaven. Aziraphale much preferred the comforts of his bookshop, but he didn't mind the apartment. It ranked somewhere in between the two extremes in his life.

He gasped as he followed the heavily muddied footprints across the otherwise-clean black floor.

Aziraphale quickly hurried after the tracks and into Crowley's office room, which consisted of little more than a gorgeous golden throne, a large black table, and various frames of artwork.

He covered his mouth upon finding a bucket in a puddle of water.

"Please, please, no."

He tried not to picture the possibility....

Tears threatened his eyes before his mind could even process the thought.

"Y-you can't-"

In panicked disbelief, he reached down to check- hoping it was anything other than holy water.

Unfortunately, it was.

He fell to one knee and then the other. He let his hands fall into the water as he desperately tried to miracle back what it had been. Unfortunately, not even his angelic powers could go that far.

His tears fell into the puddle- the water completely clear and free of any evidence that it had been the weapon of choice.

"Y-you can't just- You can't be-"

He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his coat.

6000 years... and it was far too soon. The idea of Crowley no longer being there was simply incomprehensible. Aziraphale had so much to say to him. There was so much he had planned for them to do together. Armageddon had put a bit of a nick in his plans, but the Earth was enormous and incredible and there was so much more they were going to see together.

There was a new restaurant opening up just a block from his bookstore. It was high end, brand new, and- ever the optimist- Aziraphale had planned to travel there with Crowley, given they survived the end of the world.

And now...

Nothing felt real.

Then abruptly, something caught his attention.

Crowley's phone was on the ground, another puddle of regular, unblessed water was near his chair. A pair of long black gloves were tossed aside on the table.

The holy water hadn't been used to attack Crowley- surely he was smarter than that! The demon had to have been keeping it somewhere safe and if he had taken it out himself, he would have never allowed it to be used against him.

Crowley had assured Aziraphale that the holy water was strictly for insurance. Aziraphale had to believe that.

Surely Crowley was still alive.

A bright smile spread across Aziraphale's face as if he had just been bested at some kind of game but was all the same impressed by his opponent's method of winning.

"You clever snake you!" He grinned with great endearment.

-

"My dear!"

Aziraphale burst in through the bar's front door with absolutely no consideration for anyone other than who his eyes were focused on. His abrupt announcement had turned quite a few heads, but no one's gaze stayed locked onto him like Crowley's.

Aziraphale had been checking all their prearranged meeting spots. They had set up quite a great amount of them over the years and he had narrowed it down to their most frequent meeting places before realizing that he should instead check the ones Crowley would most likely want to visit before the end of the world.

The possibly-fallen angel had spent quite a while daring the elements while searching for his partner in crime at the park before he had realized that a simple bar might make more sense.

"Aziraphale...?" The word escaped Crowley's lips in little more than a soft whisper of disbelief. He stared through his darkened glasses without daring to move, lest the angel be nothing more than an illusion.

"I'm so glad I've found you!" Aziraphale breathed with relief, hurrying over to where his friend was sitting with various bottles of alcohol for company. His hair a cream-colored coat were soaking wet from the rain that had been pouring down in heavy sheets ever since he had left Crowley's apartment. "I was so worried something had happened to you!"

"It's really you?" Crowley asked quietly, still too awestruck to do little more than stare.

"Yes, it's really me! Why would you even ask such a thing?"

Abruptly and without warning, Crowley leapt to his feet and pulled his best friend closer than he had ever dared to before. He embraced him in a warm hug and gave no regard to the fact that his already ash-covered jacket was once again being drenched thanks to Aziraphale.

"I thought I'd lost you! You're bookshop... it- it burnt down. I'm so sorry."

Crowley quickly pulled away and was forced to watch the angel's expression grow more distant.

"A... all of it?"

"I'm afraid so...."

"Oh dear." Aziraphale pondered. "I do wish I had been able to retrieve a certain book from it. It might have been able to help us at this particular juncture."

The bookkeep, weighed down by the loss, sunk into the chair across from Crowley- who once again found his own seat.

"W-what was the book?" The demon asked ever so gently.

Perhaps he had hoped the question would distract Aziraphale from the painful loss.

"The Nice and Accurate Prophesies of-"

"Agnus Nutter!" Crowley exclaimed excitedly. "Look! I have it! A souvenir!"

"Look inside, I made notes!" Aziraphale answered, immediately cheering up. His bookshop might be gone but he and Crowley still had each other, the book, and more than enough determination. He was beginning to let himself believe they might have a real shot at saving the world.

At the very least, they could watch it end together.

"Tadfield airbase," Aziraphale explained, "that's where it will happen. We must hurry!"

Crowley looked over a map Aziraphale had folded between the pages and nodded.

Aziraphale was already beginning to leave when Crowley reached for his hand. The angel froze the second he felt the touch.

"Hey, angel? I'm happy you're okay. I... I thought I'd lost my best friend."

"Oh." Aziraphale looked away softly, "Terribly sorry to hear it. I- I suppose I also had quite the scare."

Crowley gave him an inquisitive-but-still-obviously-drunk look.

"You're apartment...." Aziraphale sat back down and took his best friend's hand more firmly.

"For a moment I had.... Suffice it to say; I had thought the worst."

He paused in thought but then added quickly, "However, I'm delighted to see you're alright. The end of the world might not be worth stopping without you."

Crowley replied with the kindest, most blissfully calm smile Aziraphale had ever seen tug at his lips. Aziraphale quickly looked away with a deep blush and did his best to contribute Crowley's loving gaze to the effects of alcohol.

"I guess we'd better get to it then." Crowley smirked.

"Y-yes I suppose so."

However, they did not get right to it. They instead sat there for a good solid minute more, pretending they couldn't see nor feel their intertwined hands.

After a while, Crowley gave in.

"...I'll just go settle up."

He dragged himself away and paid the bartender- as an excuse to sober up and collect himself- before returning.

He grab the book and took his partner's hand once more.

"Shall we be off?" He asked gently.

Aziraphale nodded. Taking Crowley's hand felt like falling all over again, exhilaratingly dangerous and a terrifying relief.

If the world really was coming to an end, he was glad he wouldn't be facing it alone.


End file.
